Chapter 11

On Friday morning, Mom was wound as tight as a freshly wound clock spring. I had a hell of a time breaking her loose enough to have an orgasm from my finger-fucking. However, when we got to the cunnilingus, she almost fell apart when she relaxed after two orgasms. That extreme was as bad as the first one, so I was in a quandary about what to do to bring her back to normal.

Finally, in desperation, I went to a slow, gentle fuck. That seemed to accomplish what I was looking for. She only had one orgasm from fucking, and I wondered if I had accomplished anything useful. However, she said, “Thank you, Bill, for being so loving and understanding. I feel much better now than I did when I first got up this morning. I’ll look for you and John about 2:30 at my office this afternoon.

“One precaution that I am taking is that I hired an old friend to set up a set of hidden cameras to record in color everything that happens in my office during the meeting. Hopefully, I will collect enough material to use to blackmail the union to leave us alone. The setup crew should be finished by now, so I am heading straight to my office to make sure that the cameras and sound equipment do exactly what I want from them. I’ll let you know how that comes out when I see you at 2:30.

My Mom is a tough old bitch when you rub her the wrong way. I am proud of her and I also am glad that we are on the same side. I just hope that we can get enough useful data to block what the union bosses have in mind. At least, the meeting should not be boring.

I found that I was a nervous wreck after Mom left, and I just could not concentrate on my next client. I begged off and had Sue schedule both women for early next week. By then, I should be back to normal.

I can’t remember what I did for the next few hours—played video games, probably. Anyway, I was ready at 2:00 to go with John to Mom’s office. As soon as I got in the pickup, I started feeling better and was fully alert by the time John drove away from Jane’s Pleasure Palace. We were between traffic rushes, so we made it to Mom’s place in plenty of time. Both of us were wearing nice looking sports clothes, so we would not embarrass ourselves or Mom if the camera record had to be used in court.

She still didn’t know how many union people would show up for the meeting, so we put out four chairs for them and one each for John and me. We were sitting in the chairs when the union representatives showed up. We stood up when three men came into Mom’s office. No introductions were made, so I had no idea the names of any of the union people. One man was in a suit, and he did all of the talking. The other two men were dressed casually as John and I were. They sat in their chairs and looked bored.

Mom had started the recording devices as soon as they knocked on her closed door, so we should be getting a full recording from the moment the meeting started. The suit said, “Mrs. Harmony, I am sure you know why I am here. All I need from you is a simple yes or no regarding our discussion.”

“Well, you are not going to get that until you lay out the details of your demands. I don’t want to be caught short at some later date because I did not know all that you were demanding.”

“Mrs. Harmony, you know that I cannot do that. There are two individuals in this room whom I do not know; therefore, I don’t know if I can trust them.”

“I don’t care, Mr. Sponski. (Mom knew his name from the previous meeting.) Either you lay out the specifics of what you want me to pay for or get out of my office and stop wasting my time. Those two individuals are trusted employees of my firm, and they will not talk out of turn. I can swear to that.”

“That was not the original purpose of this meeting, Mrs. Harmony. My associates are expecting you to agree to our original conditions before something unpleasant happens.”

Ah, this was when Mom put on a great display of acting. “Mr. Sponski, you claim to represent the rank and file of the Amalgamated Refuse Collectors union, and you are demanding that I pay you $10,000 per week to make sure that nothing bad happens to my business. Where I come from, that is known as the ‘Protection Racket.’ I can tell from your Russian accent that you are familiar with the way things are done in Russia, but maybe you don’t know how things are done in America.

“That is highly illegal in America, and the police will be happy to hear how you have threatened me if I don’t pay your demanded extortion money. Now get out of my office before I have you thrown out.”

“Mrs. Harmony, perhaps you don’t understand what is at stake here. If you don’t pay my union the money demanded, your trash will not be picked up and some damage might happen to your property. Why, for all I know, this building might even catch fire.

“Boris, show Mrs. Harmony what might even happen to her person.”

One of the men stood up and looked like he was about to slap Mom around. That was all I could take. As I learned in the Krav Maga dojo, “don’t let the other guy have the first lick!” I jumped up and hit him in the back just over the right kidney with my right elbow bent into a point so that his right kidney absorbed the entire force of my body which weighed in at 187 pounds.

He screamed in pain, and the other man jumped up to attack me. He pulled what looked like a small club which I would bet was a section of metal pipe wrapped with Duck tape. He started to swing it at my head, and John hit him in the back of his neck with his bent elbow. John must have learned at the same place I did. Anyway, the second man was knocked cold.

At that point, Sponski pulled an automatic pistol which he aimed at John. Okay, no more Mr. Niceguy. I kicked Sponski in the knee and we all heard the crack as it shattered. Sponski’s cry of pain was about as loud as the one from Boris.

The next thing that happened was that Mom called 911. “Yes, this is Angela Harmony. Please send the necessary police detail to 527 Merit Ave. to arrest three men who attacked me. I wish to press assault charges. They have all been incapacitated by my bodyguards, and medical attention is needed for them ... Yes, thank you.” She hung up the telephone and turned to John and me. “Wait a moment while I turn off the recording devices.”

“Mom, you were splendid. I am impressed.”

“Thank you, Bill, but I must say that I am impressed at the way you and John reacted. The next time I need bodyguards, I will know who to call.”

We talked about trivial matters for the few minutes it took for the medical aid to show up, but no police had arrived. I wondered why that was?

One of the EMTs (Emergency Medical Technicians) said, “Ma’am, all three of these men are in bad need of emergency treatment. We need to get them transported to ER (Emergency Room) as soon as possible.”

“Very well, but I wonder where the police are. Do whatever you need to do, but I think that we should check to see what these men were armed with before you take them away. They may all have guns.”

“That’s a good point. I need to call for additional ambulances. Your bodyguards can search the injured men while I make that call. Of course, I won’t see them do it.”

“Bill, John, I’m going to turn the security cameras back on while you make the search. We may need the pictures later.” She did that, and John and I looked through the men’s pockets for weapons. We found that all three men were carrying strange looking pistols. Were they of Russian manufacture? Both of the bodyguards were also carrying what I would describe as blackjacks and mean looking knives. I didn’t know about the other stuff, but the guns were certainly illegal if they did not have concealed-carry permits, and I would bet money that they didn’t.

Still, there were no cops, so Mom called the office of the Police Commissioner. It’s amazing who she knows. Less than 10 minutes later, a beat cop showed up. By this time, Mom was really pissed off. She tore into the poor cop about the way she paid such high taxes, yet she could not get police response when she needed it. Finally, a detective showed up, and the beat cop heaved a sigh of relief.